


God, He's Such A Loser

by QQI25



Series: this is a heinous life [1]
Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Negative Self Talk, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-22
Updated: 2017-05-22
Packaged: 2018-11-03 12:41:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10967448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QQI25/pseuds/QQI25
Summary: “Get out of the way. Loser,” Jeremy spit out. All the fight went out of Michael as he moved to the side and locked the door behind Jeremy. He went back to the bathtub and sat down, slumping against the back of it.





	1. Michael In The Bathroom

“Get out of the way. Loser,” Jeremy spit out. All the fight went out of Michael as he moved to the side and locked the door behind Jeremy. He went back to the bathtub and sat down, slumping against the back of it. 

Jesus, what a loser he was. Jeremy was right. Here he was, actually at the biggest party of the fall, and he was hiding out in the fucking bathroom. It wasn't as if anyone would notice him either way. He wasn't anyone. And now he was pretty sure he was a nobody who had no one. God, it was so much easier when he had someone else standing by him, when he had a Player Two. Now he was alone, and he didn't have a Player Two, and he didn't know how he was gonna survive without the person that'd been the only one to stick around since they were five. He picked at the grout. He noticed he was hyperventilating. He tried not to think about everything he and Jeremy had been through, everything Jeremy meant to him. He tried not to dwell on the fact that he was now completely and utterly alone and didn’t know how to deal with that because he’d always had Jeremy. 

Jeremy was probably better off. He had the Squip, and now he was popular like he’d always wanted to be. He probably didn’t want anything else, certainly not Michael. He was gonna find some cooler, better version of Michael. Fuck, he was starting to cry, and it made his breathing worse. His breaths were all too shallow, and he looked down to make sure the water hadn’t turned on, because maybe the tub was full of water and he was drowning in it. There wasn’t anything, of course. It was just his stupid fucking brain and his stupid fucking lungs. 

He was totally fine. He didn’t want anything either. He didn’t want the past back, because he was totally fine being alone. He heard someone sing along to Whitney Houston somewhere outside and he totally wasn’t thinking about Jeremy and how they’d make fun of her, and maybe even dance along to her singing in a joking, totally not serious manner. Fuck. He took off his glasses and placed his balled up fists against his eyes. He was such a fucking wreck. He could just say there was something in his eye . . . in both eyes, or that he was smoking weed. Not that anyone would ask because no one gives a single fuck about him. He was so pathetic. What a fucking loser. He registered that there was knocking on the door, and the moment he did, it became suffocating. The person was pounding pounding pounding, they were gonna start to shout, they were gonna kick the door in. Fuck fuck fuck. He put his glasses on and got out of the tub. His hands were shaking so badly, his breaths were puffs as he tried to get his breathing to a normal rate. He stumbled to the sink and turned it on, splashing water in his face. He was fine, he was fine. He wiped the water from his face and turned to the door, opening it. But the knocking had stopped a while ago and no one was waiting in front of it. Great. 

He locked the door again and looked at his reflection. Pathetic. Loser. Awful. Disgusting. Fucking useless stoner. Rides a car only _parents_ fucking drive. Loner. People didn’t even know him. They just assumed they did because they knew stereotypes. He was fine. He was fine at this party where the only thing they knew about him was his name, if they even did know that. It was an awesome party. Splendid. 

He left the party. He didn’t care it was obvious that he was crying. He got in his car and drove home. 

On his bed was one of Jeremy’s jackets. He slumped down against the bed and picked up the jacket. God, he was so weak for clutching it, but if he closed his eyes, he could almost pretend Jeremy was there and hugging him like he always was for Michael’s panic attacks. Almost.


	2. Rich Set A Fire And He Burned Down The House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeremy finds out that the house burned down.

“Rich set a fire and he burned down the house!” Jeremy froze and turned towards Brooke and Chloe. 

“Wait, what’d you say?”

“He set a fire and he burned down the house!” Brooke repeated impatiently. “And he wasn’t even drunk or high or anything! He just went fucking psycho!” 

“Oh. Hey uh, I gotta go, guys. I’ll catch you later.” He started walking away. 

_WHAT ARE YOU DOING, JEREMY? YOU’RE GONNA LEAVE THEM?_

_Well yeah. I gotta check up on Michael. He’s my best friend._

_IS HE, NOW. HE’S A LOSER. REMEMBER, HE’S A LINK TO JEREMY 1.0._ Jeremy ignores the squip and starts dialing Michael. 

“What do you want, Jeremy?” He asks tiredly. 

“I just wanted to check on you. Are you fine?”

“Yeah. Sure.”

“So like, nothing’s broken or anything? You don’t have any burn marks?”

“No. Why would I?” 

“Rich set a fire at the party. I was just - I wanted to make sure you were okay, that you got out safely.”

“Yes I did. I left not long after you left me.” 

“I’m sorry Michael. I didn’t mean to call you what I called you last night. That was totally out of hand. It was just the squip told me to do it so I could get back to the party.”

“Yeah, it’s fine. Whatever. Look, I’m tired. I’m gonna sleep.” 

“Hey, are you okay? Are you sure? You sound off.”

“Yeah I’m sure. I’m just tired.”

“Alright. Well bye!” 

“Bye.”

_I DIDN’T SAY ANYTHING TO YOU._

_What?_

_IN THE BATHROOM. I DIDN’T TALK TO YOU OR TELL YOU TO DO ANYTHING._

_Yeah you did. You told me to call him a loser so he would move._

_THAT WAS ALL YOU. I DIDN’T TALK TO YOU AT ALL. THAT WAS YOU._

Fuck. He was turning into an awful friend.


End file.
